


rattling my bones

by kurooos



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Hallucinations, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Overstimulation, Sex Toys, Sybian, game mechanics apply, sybian saddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 11:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13480782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurooos/pseuds/kurooos
Summary: The chocobros get captured by Ardyn when they try and rescue Prompto from the Keep;Ardyn decides to share his spoils with the Empire, displaying Prompto and Noctis in the throne room.





	rattling my bones

**Author's Note:**

> uuuhhhhhh,,,,  
> not beta read, not even by myself, beware of some spelling mistakes and terrible flow, I'm so sorry

They’d been too sloppy, too distracted, too focused on making sure Prompto was okay and then figuring out how to get to the Crystal. Even Ignis had fallen under a lapse of distraction when they found Prompto, they thought they were alone. They’d fallen right into Ardyn’s trap like mice in a maze.

When Noctis and the others finally reached Prompto it was hard to focus on their surroundings anymore. Chills had taken Noctis viciously, seeing their friend strewn up in some crude crucifix. Zegnatus Keep had been cold, nothing but metal and MTs at every corner. Being so close to Prompto with metal bands tight around his wrists and waist made the other seem just as lifeless as everything else.

His anger towards Ardyn only flared when they got Prompto out of the machine, able to see the bruised and chafed wrists from where Prompto had been struggling. His eyes were tired, red, puffy from what Noctis knew was hours of crying.

And the only thing Prompto was concerned about was if Noctis was worried about him. The revolting twist of fear at what Ardyn might had been telling Prompto was sickening, he told Prompto clearly that of course he had missed him. They were friends.

Prompto’s relief at those words made Noctis feel as if he was the one who had been strapped up for hours, crying and alone with a daemon of a man.

His guard had been down, Ignis’ guard had been down, Gladio’s guard had been down. They all didn’t notice when the gate to where they had just come in slammed shut, only realizing what was happening when the vents above them began to leak an unsettling red fog.

They had run to the bars, panic beginning to burrow in their chests as their weapons failed to appear, as there seemed to be no obvious lever or hinge to work the gate up or out. Ardyn’s voice came over them, filling the room, mocking them about their sweet reunion.

The fog spilled in heavier, faster, smelling too sweet and filling their mouths with a sharp metallic taste. Prompto had been the first to collapse, already in Noctis’ arms, and then Ignis. Noctis wheezed, fought to stay awake with his racing mind but the walls and the metal bars in front of him had swirled and tunnelled away from him before he slumped over on the floor.

It felt like only a few minutes had passed, barely even half an hour before he was coming to, chained by his wrists to a hook in the wall. Gladio was leaned up against him, heavy and still unconscious. The prince had blinked the haze from his eyes and looked at Ignis and Prompto across from their cell. He then noted the two MTs guarding just outside the bars.

“Finally awake, dearest?”

The purring question made Noctis flinch, immediately trying to turn around and look at the stone wall behind him where he thought the source of the voice was before fingers took him by the chin and turned him in the right direction. Ardyn stood in front of him as if he’d been there the whole time, a pleased and unsettling brightness in his eyes that was only made worse by his smile.

“We don’t have much time until the celebration. It’s high time you all get ready for it.”

Noctis was confused, ready to ask what the hell he meant when he’d snapped and the others woke up with an unnatural jerk. Noctis pulled his head away from Ardyn’s hold, a glare taking over his shock.

Ardyn didn’t seem to mind, fixing the prince with a secretive grin before striding across the room to Ignis and Prompto.

Noctis felt his heart drop, yanking on the chain that bound him with a wavering, “no!”

Ignis had tensed up hearing Ardyn’s footsteps grow closer, but choosing to remain silent. Ardyn placed his fingers under the scarring at Ignis’ eyes with a pleased hum, muttering something Noctis couldn’t quite make out. Was it just because his blood was roaring in his ears? That his entire body sung with the promise that as soon as he was free there would be no stopping him from killing the man who had touched his friends?

Noctis fought to breathe, stomach clenching was Ardyn tapped Ignis on the cheek and turned his head away and then moved on to Prompto.

He looked just as scared and pale as Ignis did with the proximity of the chancellor. And now Noctis knew that not only Ignis had been Ardyn’s victim, but Prompto was too. Whatever had happened in the Keep…

Prompto’s whimper broke Noctis out of his increasingly degrading thoughts. Ardyn had yet to saying anything but Prompto was shaking his head, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes.

“This is real. They’re real. _I’m_ real,”  He muttered to Ardyn, not sounding confident, “they came for me because they care about me.”

“Not enough to get you out, however. And now, because of you pet, they’re going to suffer just as you have.” Ardyn told him smoothly, fingers brushing back Prompto’s hair in a loving gesture, “you brought them here,” no, Noctis thought, no, no, “it’s your fault.”

Noctis’ stomach rolled. And he couldn't open his mouth to tell Prompto to not listen to the chancellor. He fought to part his lips and tell Prompto to focus on him and not Ardyn.

Prompto’s shoulders had begun to tremble, bottom lip wobbling and he ducked his head in resignation, a tiny apology coming out shakily.

Ardyn left it at that, as if he was in a hurry, as if he had no more time to degrade the band of boys any further than what he’d already done now.

He turned back to Noctis, a vial appearing in his fingers, shimmering and gold. Prompto behind him had said no again, this time with more of a command, desperately as Ardyn approached.

“Open up. This will make your night go much smoother.”

The stopper at the top was pulled free with the gentle noise of stone against glass and Ardyn put a foot between Noctis’ legs, standing uncomfortably close. Noctis sneered and turned his head, still not finding himself able to speak and tell Ardyn to fuck himself.

“Would you rather suffer more?” Ardyn growled, suddenly angry and grabbing Noctis by the jaw, pressing hard enough to pry open his mouth just enough to tip the vial in, “swallow it or I’ll make sure your friends will be leaving with you in pieces.”

Even with the threat, Ardyn had to cover Noctis’ mouth, pinch his nose shut, and hold him against the wall until he had instinctively swallowed. Noctis doesn’t make it easy, wants to let Ardyn know he will never have an easy time taking advantage of him. Ever.

It’s sort of, a smudged blur after that. Ardyn’s words turn into a garbled unintelligible language after a few seconds of sitting there thinking about what Ardyn made him take. Gladio calls for him, obviously confused.

Noctis hasn’t been this relaxed and...carefree, since he was a child. Nothing outside of himself matters anymore. Warmth envelops his fingertips and toes, works up his limbs until his entire core is radiating with the comfortable temperature. He feels like he used to after being bundled under layers of thick blankets, cheeks flushed and the air trapped around him just as warm as the blood flowing through him.

Between one blink and the next, the room has changed. Gladio and Ignis are gone. Prompto and Ardyn are so far away from him, across the room that, after some lazy looking, Noctis assumes is an office.

Books line an entire wall, arranged neatly on rows of shelving and barely any space for more. There are two plush chairs in the middle of the room, facing a couch that could sit three in the same material. A low, glass-top table sits between those items and adjacent to them is a large and wooden desk.

It reminds Noctis of the office his father had, of the office he would frequently visit. However, the only thing different is Prompto leaned over the desk, arms behind him at parade rest and feet knocked apart. His clothes are missing and when Noctis blinks again, he gets a wonderfully clear view of fingers pushing into Prompto.

Another blink and yet another and Noctis is losing his grip on following what was going on. He can barely make out Prompto crying, breathless sobs punched between grunts. Ardyn is leaned over him but the massive cloak covers Noctis’ view of Prompto on the desk.

Yet another agonizing change of scenery when Noctis blinks and the chancellor is leaning over _him_. His lips are moving, a grin stuck there on his face as his shoulders move. Noctis isn’t aware that the moans are his own until he tries to reach down and push Ardyn away. He gets a taste of pressure around his cock and then he’s slipping back under that frustrating haze.

“Noctis- ah- _fuck- Noct!”_ Prompto is right by his ear, waking him up from his sleep. He flinches when Prompto bumps into him hard, trying to sit back only to get a sharp ache in his chest.

His gasp is the same as Prompto’s.

There are voices all around them, idle chatter Noctis dreads because this is how the open space of the throne room sounded when there was a ball or a formal gathering back in Insomnia.

He then realizes that’s because they’re at a formal gathering, Empirical commanding officers are chatting amongst themselves in small groups, some have drinks in their hands, some are glancing at Noctis with dark looks that he can’t decipher.

Prompto moans again in front of him, and Noctis pays attention this time to the person in front of him rather than the large room they seem to be in the middle of.

Prompto’s flushed darkly, eyes shut, the pink blush reaching down to his shoulders and chest. Noctis’ mouth gets a little dry seeing dusky nipples held tightly by metal loops, pierced through the flesh there.

A small chain dangles between the two piercings and comes together at one chain. Noctis’ eyes follow it in a daze before he makes the connection that he is in a similar appearance. Though the metal doesn’t go through his nipples, simply clamped on and held tight. He blinks in disbelief, wondering how he’s not feeling that, when Prompto squeaks in front of him, head ducking down, shoulders hunched back. He squirms and Noctis leans forward, a pained gasp punched out of him.

The pain snaps everything into place so quickly Noctis feels like he’s going to throw up.

Red and white flags hang at every window in this throneroom, the Niflheim crest blazing in gold, stamped onto the fabric. MTs are stationed under each one, guns held in their hands and looking like statues. The room is lit with illuminated stones both along the floors and wall sconces. The windows are pitch black, Noctis unable to see out of them.

But the main piece of the room is himself. Both he and Prompto knelt on the unforgiving marble, straddling a sturdy frame. Noctis thinks it to be a saddle for a chocobo or spiracorn at first until he finds out that it’s much too long to be used on top of any animal and the bottom that rests on the floor is completely flat.

The prince and Prompto are facing each other, mirror images of the other and Noctis feels something unpleasant rise under his cheeks.

Prompto is barely wearing anything. The suit he has on is skin tight, covering only his legs and arms. It’s black, red accented lines going down the sides.

The suit fits against Prompto’s body perfectly, covering over his legs and his front, around his hips and then up over his sides until it loops around his neck. Prompto’s back and chest are bare, skin laid out for any to see and touch, his stomach is flexed hard from his breathing, trembling on an exhale as Prompto squirms again.

Prompto’s arms are bound behind him, ramrod straight and bound together with straps at his wrists, elbows, and just behind his shoulders.

With a bit of wiggling, Noctis discovered that he’s the same way. Further note of his range of movement finds him that straps keep his and Prompto’s knees together on either side of what they were seated on. They can’t pull away from each other at all.

He’s trying to discover why Prompto won’t stop moving when the thing under him begins to hum. It’s a soft and barely there noise but then it kicks up and it’s _vibrating_.

His own moan is drawn out, head ducking down as he tries to- to-

He can’t think. Nothing is making sense. He’s being shaken to his core, blunt pressure curled up inside of him and held firmly against his prostate. The vibrations travel up, touching and violating and Noctis feels like he’s being electrocuted at first.

Wetness blurs his vision, the pleasure spiking to be too much too fast and then it stops completely. Were he not chained so delicately to Prompto in front of him he would have fallen over. Prompto’s heavy against his front when he slumps, sighing.

“Welcome all,” Ardyn’s voice travels easily through the large room, Noctis can just barely make the man out to be standing near the throne on the end of the room, not up on that high tier but a few steps below it, he’s still at a vantage point for everyone present to see him, “this celebration of the fall of the Lucis line and Insomnia joys me greatly.”

“As most of you have noticed, I have brought my victory here, for all to see. I have had many doubt my truth, so,” Ardyn’s arm stretches out, a gesture to the two boys in the middle of the room, “here is my proof. The spoils of my conquest, the Prince of Lucis and his stray.”

The conversations had finally dimmed, all eyes turning to them. Noctis tried to glare at anyone who dared looking over them, hoping that maybe if he could keep them at a distance. Long enough to-

“I assure you, they are not mirages. Go ahead and touch, see for yourself that they are real.” Ardyn invites the room as a whole and Noctis’ stomach drops to the floor. This can’t be happening. This couldn’t be-

A hand creeps over the top of his shoulder, soft fingertips brushing the side of his neck. It’s a curious touch, nothing more meant by it but Noctis’ skin crawls all the same.

He tries to spit at the person touching him, to say something, anything, but words have no meaning and form in his mouth, his threats dying out into sighs and pitiful noises.

Prompto is in no better condition, if anything Noctis believes him to be worse. The gunman obviously is under the influence of some drug, not fully aware of the room around him or the weight of the situation they’re really in right now.

His body is held tensely, and the trembling that runs through him are nothing more than shivers. Prompto’s chest rises and falls with every deep breath he takes in. Noctis is almost mesmerized at how the piercings at his nipples move the chain when he breathes, wonders how new those were.

Prompto sobs suddenly, knees knocking into the machine they are knelt over, the straps holding them ends up taking Noctis’ knees with it. The thump of it sounds too loud in the room.

The vibrations have started up again, not as strong as before but Noctis is finding it harder to concentrate. Hands push through his hair, getting rougher as the seconds pass, leading to ringed fingers backhanding his cheeks.

He can only pant through it, stuck there as if some magical force has sucked all the fight out of him.

“A wonder how these two got together. I’ve heard the blonde is a marksman.” A voice behind him says, hushed.

“The prince’s royal entourage sure has caused trouble for us. The bases we’ve lost, the forces they’ve destroyed. Just four _boys_.” Another one replies.

Prompto moans again in front of him, hips jolting forward, barely any more give before he’s moaning louder, head falling back, eyes fluttering shut, thighs shaking. Noctis watches, captured by it, missing the chancellor somehow appearing behind him, hand firm on the back of Prompto’s neck as he guides him through the sensations.

“They’ve been sedated,” he says to no one in particular, golden eyes finding Noctis’ and then smiling, “I must insist that you all take full advantage of using them. I’m afraid these two are rather hard to break.”

Noctis is helpless to follow along. His head is pounding, his hips are aching, his cock is steadily leaking into the skintight suit and preventing him from bucking forward to gain friction. His senses only narrow down to the toy in his ass, buzzing along to the machine under him, and the hands in his hair.

Ardyn hooks his thumb into Prompto’s mouth and he gasps, trying to turn his head away slightly only to get the chancellor’s cock between his lips. From the sharp angle, only the head is able to fit into Prompto’s mouth, but Ardyn doesn’t seem to mind, thrusting against the wet tongue and cheek he can get to.

Prompto doesn’t fight it, doesn’t bite down, and when Ardyn takes the boy by the jaw, he goes pliant. Noctis realizes a bit too late that this isn’t the first time Prompto has done this with Ardyn. His fingers ached to pull a sword from his armiger and drive it hard into the men and women around him. Yet no matter how desperately he reached he couldn’t push into that liminal space, the same device Ardyn had used before rendering him useless, Noctis could hear the mechanical hum of it even in this room, above the already loud machine under his and Prompto’s legs.

He can’t dwell on it further, can’t cry or curse or struggle because someone is grabbing his jaw as well and a slap hits his cheek hard. It comes away damp and then it hits again.

Someone is talking to him from above, another slap to his cheek that brushes against his lips when he's told to open up. The heavy cock taps his lips now, precum smearing and Noctis yanks his head to the side, not caring about the pain at his scalp.

Clothes and armor is shuffled around him and Noctis’ head is ripped back up again, the vibrations between his legs get stronger and shockingly he’s cumming again.

He must have blacked out because opening his eyes he finds the room a bit emptier than it had been before. He’s still stuffed full but the vibrations have stopped yet again. Prompto’s head is on his shoulder, tears wet against his skin.

Prompto’s mumbling apologies to Noctis over and over, talking a mile a minute about how he led them there to the trap, how he should have never talked to Noctis when he was younger, how he would get Noctis and Gladio and Ignis out of here even if it killed him.

Half-asleep, Noctis leans his head on Prompto, “hey,” he tries, feeling spent and tired so his voice barely is above a whisper, “none of this is your fault, we’ll get out of here together.”

Noctis is glad that he’s awake again. Whatever he’d been drugged up with was mostly passed and Noctis can take a mental check of everything.

He’s okay. No injuries and no status affecting ailments, just a frustrating inability to move and his legs numb from how long he’s been kneeling.

He rises up on his knees higher, finding he _can_ and whatever is inside of him pulls free.

It’s like his lungs can finally pull in the air he’s needed. He can’t hold onto Prompto, arms still bound behind him but he can lean into his shoulder and press a kiss there to try and comfort him.

Prompto seems to be recovered too, cognizant of both Noctis in front of him and their surroundings. He can’t stop squirming though, trying to get comfortable Noctis supposes.

“Gods, Noct, I still- I’m so sorry.” He says, hurt so strong in his tone.

Footsteps had begun to come close to them then and Noctis’ shoulders tensed. He finally caught Prompto’s eyes, saw the wide depth of his pupils, the glittering tears at the corners of his eyes, something viscerally sorry hidden in such a simple gaze.

“It seems these two are finally awake again,” someone says behind him, Prompto’s eyes flicker to the side before he looks at Noctis again, a quick glance that piques his curiosity as who might be behind him.

“Fools for taking more interest in the captured Crownsguard,” someone else says, fingers reach around and hold Noctis by the jaw, “this is what we’re here for, the whole reason the Empire has gone through so much trouble.”

Noctis is tired of being touched like livestock at auction and tucks his head down, just fast enough that the man behind him doesn’t have time to pull his fingers away before Noctis has bitten down hard. He tastes blood when the hand is yanked away from him, a sharp yell of pain and curses following it, the MTs closes to them jump to attention, guns pointed to both he and Prompto.

Noctis spits on the floor next to him, sharp eyes catching the man in his peripheral.

“Touch me again, I dare you.” he snarls, heart starting to race.

He doesn’t see Prompto staring at him, the slight impressed smile on his face from trying to not laugh.

“You _brat_ -” the man sneers back, foot digging into Noctis’ fingers, pinning them between his boot and the machine he’s still seated on. Noctis winces, a startled noise coming from him when another boot lands hard between his shoulders and shoves. Something makes a dull pop and pain flares in his chest, fingers and arm suddenly loose and numb.

Prompto says something to him, worriedly trying to check him. Noctis can’t do much but lean on Prompto, shake in pain when the boots leave his skin aching. His hair is yanked on, tugging him away from Prompto and then the vibrations kick on under him.

He whines when Prompto moans, squirming against the thumb shoving past his teeth. Prompto’s no longer talking to him, babbling something he doesn’t understand to the men behind him. They’ve drawn a crowd now with the scuffle and noise. MTs are closer, edging at the small crowd of officers that still remain in the room.

The bitter heat of a cock spreads on Noctis’ tongue during his momentary daze of pain.

Noctis, with no thought to the consequences, bites down. He wanted to bite down harder, prayed to all the Astrals above that he could snap his jaws shut and castrate the man standing in front of him but at the slightest pressure of his teeth, a punch was knocked into the side of his head. Pain bloomed behind his eyes for a blinding moment, laughter was distant and far off and Noctis was coughing the bitter taste of precum off his tongue.

Hands finally took him around the waist, his knees coming free of the machine under him and the chain connecting his and Prompto’s chests severed.

A dizzying moment of weightlessness before his shoulders spiked in pain, his body weight crushing his rigid arms behind him. He gasps in pain and then stops wiggling, back arching when a hand takes the chain connecting his nipples and tugs him up. He doesn’t know how the clamps have not slipped off his skin yet, he’s sweating and moving so much and- gods it hurts. Everything hurts but he’s fought beasts and creatures bigger and scarier than this Niflheim officer.

It’s a click in his mind when he comes to the realization he’s free. Well, his legs are at least. It would take a quick knee to the man above him and then a kick to the jaw to snap his neck. Barely two seconds and then he could kick in the face of the man now fucking Prompto’s mouth.

A surge of electricity ends those thoughts immediately, the current arcing through his neck and down his spine, rendering him helpless and shivering on the floor. The officer above him chuckles, holding up a small remote to the prince.

“Enough of your struggling, _boy_. Behave.” He threatens, takes Noctis by the cheek and forces his head down to the floor where he can see Prompto in front of him.

The black saddled device is still on, whirring away between Prompto’s legs, shining a bit with cum along the seat, the toy that Noctis has previously been seated on softly blurred from the vibrations still.

Prompto’s head is moving now, helping the blow job go smoother. Drool and cum are wet on his chin and over his chest, a mess that Noctis wishes he would never have had too see.

It doesn't take long until the officer groans and pulls himself free of Prompto’s mouth. With one hand he takes Prompto by the hair, the other pumping himself as he tips his head back, not even looking when his cock spills cum over Prompto’s cheeks and lips. The man finishes and then eases his cock back into Prompto’s mouth, telling him to suck and clean the mess up. He sighs in satisfaction when he pulls away again, tucking his cock back into his pants.

Prompto’s head gets pushed down with a small shove, Noctis catches his eyes briefly before Prompto’s eyes are rolling back, thighs clutching onto the machine. Moans and sobs fall freely past his lips, hips pressing forward just slightly.

“As much as we like seeing you get some punishment, you should work for it.” A woman says, piping up from behind Prompto, far enough in the crowd that Nocts can’t spot her. He’s making a list, a mental list of who he’s cutting down first before he leaves the room.

Prompto's getting louder, gasps cutting over the voices talking among themselves, distracting Noctis from trying to lean off his shoulder that’s still uncomfortably loose. He watches Prompto try and rise up off the machine on his knees before a gloved hand shoves him on the shoulder and forces him down.

“Keep moving.” the man hisses, letting go to allow Prompto to struggle wobbly back to his knees and then lower again.

“ _Ah, fuck_ ,” Prompto gasps again, thighs suddenly shaking hard when he next tries to bring himself up again. He accidentally sees Noctis looking at him and blushes, the hot flush spreading over his cheeks just as tears spill over.

He tries to turn his head and hide from Noctis, especially when his cock jerks and them cums onto the machine in front of him but the man with the gloves holds his head up until he’s finished, thumbs rubbing the sides of his neck and under his jaw. Prompto’s bottom lip wobbles as the machine keeps going under him, vibrations still just as strong as when he started. He tries to catch his lip between his teeth, shoulders sagging and head falling back.

Just as Noctis tries to get the man holding him down off of him, the doors to the throne room slam open, with it, the rumbling vibrations of an explosion from down the hall.

It feels like hot water scalds Noctis’ wrists and stomach when the explosion goes off. As the shock wears off, he reaches out with his mind. Watches the officers and MTs in the room look around in panic.

His Engine Blade appears in his hand, falling into his fingers with the weight of almost nothing. Between one blink and the next, the blade is dug in the stomach of whoever is behind him. He hears guns prepare to fire at him and throws himself to the side. The blade is replaced with daggers, one of which he throws to an MT, warping after it in a flash. He feels Gladio and Ignis pull their weapons from his magic and it lights a satisfied flame in his chest.

Even with one arm out of commission, Noctis makes good work of taking out three magitek troopers and four of the high commanders in the room before a bullet hits him.

The pain barely registers, a graze of hot metal across his side that he narrowly dodges with warping across the room, the adrenaline keeps him moving, flashing around the throne room.

Somewhere in the fray he’s thrown a dagger at Prompto, the edge of the blade slicing the bonds on his arms and it’s like taking the leash off a beast. His guns appear in his hands in a brilliantly blue glow. Noctis doesn’t have to watch when Prompto stands himself up and shoots off bullet after bullet until he and Noctis are the only ones standing in the room.

Noctis’ pride swells more with each bullet he feels Prompto fire off and replace, over and over until there’s no one left to cut down.

He’s reminded of their fights running across Duscae, hunting beasts for some extra spending money, skipping to Prompto for a high five or having Gladio clap him on the shoulder after a hard fight.

But when he turns to Prompto, he barely has time to smile before he sees Prompto’s knees wobble and drop out from under him. Noctis warps to him, catches Prompto before his knees can even touch the floor. The pistol in his hand disappears in a grainy blue light, not from Prompto’s letting it go, but his slip of consciousness.

Noctis can feel it now that he’s holding Prompto, the slight shake in his muscles and his shallow breathing. Noctis slips to his knees on the hard marble under him, cradling Prompto close to try and get his attention.

“Hey, hey, hey. Prom, come on I need you to help get us out of here. Don’t go to sleep yet.” He tries, voice soft while he pats a hand on Prompto’s cheek. He manages to get the other’s attention, only briefly before Prompto’s eyes grow hazy and close.

He hears footsteps running down the hallway outside, guards shouting and then being cut off and he things it’s Gladio and Ignis. Finds himself trying to get his legs under him ready to stand up with their help but deflates with his heart sinking when someone else appears in the doorway.

Ardyn stands there, looking barely winded with a horde of magitek behind him, eyes bright with anger and a cut on his cheek, oozing with black down his chin. His clothes and cloak are rumpled, hat gone and hair shoved back carelessly. Noctis has never seen the man look so disheveled.

Ardyn barely even glances at the bodies in the room, eyes boring hot on Noctis and Prompto. Something shifts on his face, a range of emotions before he’s back to his controlled self, taking steady steps towards the two boys.

“Stay back,” Noctis finds that a sword materializes in his hand subconsciously, wobbly and unable to hold it up and point at Ardyn, his good arm already holding Prompto safely. Not that it matters, Ardyn’s face twists up when he gets closer and he waves his hand once, palm glowing red pink. Noctis doesn’t know what he does but pressure builds in his dislocated shoulder and in his head behind his temples. Pulsing like an angry drumbeat, syncing to Ardyn’s boots on the marble floors, louder and louder and louder until Noctis can’t see anymore.

Once more, he finds himself passing out at the hands of this man.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this fic for four months and I'm tired of pushing it and trying to fix it up. This is as good as I'm getting it.


End file.
